"I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight." Audrey Hampton whispered as she lay in a dark field, letting the rain fall on her. Dark, quiet, cold, peaceful, anything more than a whisper would seem disrespectful to the moment, and she didn't want to disturb the silent world that she was becoming a part of. If she lay perfectly still she could ignore the constant worry that had plagued her family in the recent months, and the question that was forever on her mind: "When will they come for us?"
It seemed odd just a year ago she had been a happy student, finishing Hogwarts. Her parents had been so proud. Her three sisters and two brothers, all with children of their own, had all come to her graduation feast. Most people had parties, the Hamptons had feasts. Her grandparents had been muggle chefs, and even though they were long dead, her mother maintained that some things were best done by hand, not magic, and cooked the most wonderful foods. Her stomach growled now just thinking of it. There had been no feasts lately. Not since the day the Ministry announced the Muggle-Born Registration Commission, and her entire family had fled their respective homes to her parents nursery, isolated in the country. Everyone thought they would be safe there, but they all knew, though it remained unsaid, that an entire family disappearing would hardly go unnoticed. They were hoping that being so very unimportant would work to their advantage, and that no one would miss them. But her parents, five siblings, and nine nieces and nephews all hiding together was hardly ideal on any level.
Food was running scarce. As soon as they arrived she had planted a vegetable garden. Her parents specialized in magical plants and herbs, and when she finished Hogwarts Audrey elected to work for them and someday take over the business. Her older siblings had all gone into other fields, and being the youngest child she felt obligated to live up to her parents dreams. Now that seemed silly. Their goal was just to make it through this time without anyone finding them. There were whispers among the family of trials, muggle-borns being thrown into Azkaban, whole families disappearing in the night. It scared her. She tried to pretend she was brave when they talked of these things she never slept that night. Every noise made her jump, but she had to hide her fears because everywhere she turned one of her nieces or nephews was there. Seventeen people in one little cottage was not comfortable at all, and allowed for absolutely no privacy.
That was why she was in the field that night. She needed some time to herself. Laying on the ground in the rain like this she felt like she could melt into the ground and become one with the earth.
"Mistress Mary quite contrary how does your garden grown?" She whispered. She loved her mother's old muggle rhymes. She had grown up with them, and now they seemed to float around her mind, reminding her of the happy days of her childhood.
Thunder in the distance. A storm was coming. Odd for this time of year. The wind was picking up and howling through the trees. She sat up, looking at the sky. That wasn't the wind. And that wasn't thunder.
Fear suddenly gripped her heart and she remained frozen for a split second that seemed like an eternity. Home. She had to get home.
She ran through the woods. It was like a dream. She didn't feel when the overgrowth cut at her ankles. She didn't notice when she ripped her cloak. She just wanted to get home.
She reached the clearing and could see dark figures moving around the house, trampling her gardens, smashing the greenhouse windows. Laughing as they pulled her family out of the house, tormenting them, cursing them. She could hear their screams, hear the cries of the children. Sounds she would never forget as long as she lived.
She wanted to run in there, help them, save them, or at least die trying, but something caught her ankle and she fell to the forest floor, crying out in surprise.
She tried to get up, she had to help her family. She had to save someone, but as soon as she was on her feet she was pulled back down.
"Audrey… sh… stop it!" They hissed, pinning her to the ground.
"Let go!" She cried out, trying to push herself away.
"Audrey!" It was her oldest brother, Miles, he held her until she was still.
They laid there in shock for a moment, just watching. Neither spoke for what seemed like forever.
Finally she broke the silence. "We have to do something."
"What can we do?" He asked dully. He sounded defeated.
She tried to think of something, but knew he was right, there was nothing they could do. "Where's Tabitha? And the kids?"
"Dead." He said it so coldly, as if all emotions were gone and he was just a hollow shell of the kind man she knew as her oldest brother. "They killed them."
That was when it hit her. Her entire family was being killed right before her eyes, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Audrey pulled her knees up to her chest, burying her face in her knees, trying to block it all out. She could still hear them. It wasn't enough. She didn't want to hear this. She didn't want to see anything. She wanted to close her eyes and imagine she was somewhere else. Anywhere else. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears, rocking herself a little, wishing it would all go away. In her mind she kept hearing the same old nursery rhyme over and over….
"Ladybird ladybird fly away home,
Your house is on fire and your children are gone,
All except one and that's little Ann,
For she crept under the frying pan."